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I don’t understand. And I can feel that my expression screams—I DON’T UNDERSTAND! “But—"
“You don’t want me, Meredith.”
“Excuse me?” I shake my head, trying to make sense of everything. “Confused.”
“Me. You don’t want me.”
“Levi—“
“I’m serious. You don’t.”
I scoff.
I have been a ball of nerves, as if my body knew something was off all along and now my mind is just catching up. “How do you know what I want?” I ask, feeling more annoyed with him than I have with anyone else in my entire life. He interrupted a beautiful moment, a sweet kiss, a kiss that said I know exactly what I want, to tell me this?
“There are so many people out there and—”
“Again,” I say, my voice taking on an angry tone that I’ve never heard come from my mouth before, “how would you know?”
“I’m just trying to protect you.”
I laugh, but it’s humorless—another foreign sound. I’m pretty sure I’m having an out-of-body experience. Is this really me? I push on his chest, moving him a foot away from me. Not giving those magnets a chance to connect once more. “Levi, I’ve beenprotectedmy whole life. I don’t need you to protect me.”
“I just think if you knew what you wanted—"
“Now you’re telling me I don’t know what I want? I lived a sheltered life, but I’m not stupid. In fact,” my throat clenches with tears, with a need to sob with this rejection—ah, this is what it feels like,ouch. How can I be so angry and so sad and feel so much desire all at the same time? Is that even possible? “In fact,” I repeat, “clearly, I’m a lot smarter than you.”
“Meredith, I’m trying to be a friend. I’m—” he starts.
But I don’t let him finish. “Don’t tell me I don’t know what I want. Iknow, Levi. What I don’t want is someone whose only thought is to protect me. I want someone to love me, to desire me, to listen to me, to play with me, to sing really bad karaoke with me. So, this is an easy call.” I want to choke. I want to stop talking. Because none of this is easy. But I can’t. I’m in charge of my happiness. Just like Bob said. Loved only through protection is not what I want. I know that for certain. “If you’re here for protection and that’s all. I’m out.”
“I’m still your friend. And you’ll see—”
I shake my head. How can I ever be just friends with Levi? I want all of him. These feelings take up every corner of my body, and I thought his actions meant they were reciprocated.
I’ve said so much more than I thought I could—but any more words might break me. Levi doesn’t feel the same. I move past him, my feet tapping on the ground
“Not even a friend? Meredith,” he says, walking after me. “Protecting is what I do. You know that.” He reaches out, his fingers brushing my elbow.
I open the door and peer back at him, tears swimming in my eyes. I can’t stop the blink or the tears that spill down my cheeks. “Then you’ll have to do it for someone else. Because I want more than that.”
37
Meredith
So much goodness. So much joy. Thrills and butterflies and love.
I have felt it all.
In the past seven months—since I moved in with Bob, and even more so in the last two, since I’ve known Levi. I have felt and experienced a plethora of life.
Butthis?
Maybe I say all my thoughts aloud because Uncle Bob traces a hand from my head to my back. He sits on the side of my bed—where I’ve cried the last two hours, and reading my mind, says, “This too.Thisis part of living too. The good and the bad. Love and pain. You have to take it all or none, sweet girl.”
I didn’t know my Aunt Cindy well. But Bob talks about her—whenever we talk about life. She’s gone. And the pain I feel now must be tenfold for him. I wonder if before she died, he wore more than that robe and pajamas. I wonder if he went out. If he danced in the park or rode bikes over back trails. Did he do all those things too?
When my mother died, my father changed—at least I assume that he did. I don’t know the man he was before her death. And while Bob wants me to live,reallylive, I think that he has changed too.
